


Fireworks!

by telemachus



Series: Rising-verse [32]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Elflings like Fireworks too, F/M, Fireworks, Fireworks Mithrandir!, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:58:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2575670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two evenings watching fireworks make Caradhil think.</p><p>Fluffy, bit soppy. Sorry......</p><p>(It was firework night here last night.....)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireworks!

_Mirkwood, approximately 1980 Third Age_

 

 

“Fireworks, Mithrandir, fireworks!”

Caradhil turns from the archery range, and sees his friend has turned as well. He catches his eye,  
“Is not that your elfling, Brethylf?” he asks, knowing full well it is.

Brethylf sighs,  
“Yes, very probably. He has talked of nothing but fireworks since we heard Mithrandir was come to see our King. It is your fault – you told him of them – you and your stories.”

Caradhil grins, he did, indeed he did. Despite the fact he only saw such things once – Mithrandir does not pass this way often, and warriors spend much time out on patrol – they made a great impression on him. Enough that, truth be known, he has himself been rather hoping there might be more, this visit.

But he is too old to go pleading.

However, he is Caradhil. It is not hard to persuade others to plead.

Brethylf knows him too well,  
“You wait. One day, it will be you who is vowed, you who has an elfling, wait and see what I encourage them to do.”

Caradhil laughs, and shakes his head,

“If that day comes, you have my full permission to speak as you please,” he says, confident that not only will he never, ever vow to one, never have an elfling – but that if he did, no child of his would be won over by Brethylf, any more than he ever was. To know one’s own mind is a great thing.

He thinks that again, later, as he watches the fireworks, his arm round – some new friend, some charming elf he will enjoy combing with – in a group, always in a group – he reflects on his pleasure at being free to move on, to meet another, and another and another. To be unencumbered by vows, or duty, or elflings.

 

 

%%%%%%%%%%%

 

 

_Ithilien, Approximately 30 Fourth Age_

 

 

“Fireworks, Ada, fireworks,” the elflings dance and clap their hands, and their Ada smiles.

“Can you remember why we have fireworks tonight?” he asks, as they walk to the glade where there will, indeed, be fireworks.

“Fi-works pretty.”

“Yes, ion-nin, partly, but why tonight?”

“Pretty Le-las here – so Gim-i here too. Dwarveses good at fi-works.”

Caradhil sighs. Yes, dwarveses are good at fireworks. Even this dwarf. Hard though it is for any Ada to admit, this dwarf is probably better at them than he is.

As ever, his daughter is more concerned with facts, with accuracy,

“We have fireworks tonight to remember the Overthrow of the Dark Lord, to remember how Frodo the Halfling, Frodo of the Nine-Fingers, cast the One Ring into the Fiery Mountain. And it exploded,” she looks sternly at her brother, “that is why. Not just because they are pretty.”

He sniffles,  
“Fi-works are pretty,” he says, and his lip trembles dangerously, “they are, and Ada likes them. That's why.”

Caradhil picks him up, and holds him very tight, and very close, and touches his ears, and feels the little hands on his own,

“Yes, ion-nin, mainly that’s why,” he says, rubbing noses, kissing him, and then, looking over his son’s head, he winks at his daughter and adds, “but the other tale sounds better, group-leaders should always have a sensible reason for whatever it is they want to do.”

Taithel has not followed this part, it is too complicated, he only knows his father holds him, and tells him he is right, so he turns and pokes a tongue out at his bossy elder sister. For a moment, she is about to descend into the mire of sibling bickering – but then she catches her father’s eye, and grins back, understanding the conspiracy, and learning the lesson.

And as they walk towards the fireworks, Caradhil thinks that to know one’s own mind is indeed a great thing. That to be unencumbered was enjoyable, but that he is grateful indeed to the one who showed him that to be encumbered, to be loaded down in fact, is better – that even though he will not tonight – or any night – jump through the fires with One he can love as elves are meant to love – as ‘pretty Le-las’ will with his dwarf – he will go back to his flet, his leader’s flet, with his daughter, his son, and his best friend. And when the elflings are in reverie, he and Meieriel will comb, and perhaps there will be more fireworks. 

Metaphorical ones.

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone flames me (appropriate though that might be), Caradhil's change of heart over the course of many, many years, is part of his story (Red Star Rising). It isn't meant to imply that should hold true for everyone. Of course not. It just does for him.
> 
> (He's my OC, & he told me that. And he's not someone to argue with, really.)


End file.
